


Dance of the Victorious Rabbit

by Dorksidefiker



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 06:54:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorksidefiker/pseuds/Dorksidefiker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every year that the moon is full on the night before Easter, they hunt him.  Every year that the moon is full the night before Easter, he reminds them that he is not prey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance of the Victorious Rabbit

**Author's Note:**

> Another Kink Meme fill while waiting for Round 3 to start.

In a lot of ways, the Hunt was as much a part of Easter for Bunnymund as hiding the eggs. Most years, the worst thing he had to contend with were a few traps -- _their_ way of saying 'We're watching, we're ready for you.' -- and maybe one or two of them prowling the woods they claimed as their home. _They_ were always restless around Easter, aware that there was an invader in their territory but unable to see him, let alone catch him. But then there were the _special_ nights, the ones where the full moon fell on the night before Easter... those were the nights when _they_ would be out in force, and the Hunt would be on.

 _Neither flesh nor fowl nor good red herring,_ Bunnymund thought as he leapt into the air and twisted suddenly. His feet landed briefly on the broad back of the werewolf, his weight and momentum enough to shove the creature muzzle first into a tree. Werewolves had a foot in both worlds, especially on the nights when the moon was round and full, and they were _very_ territorial. If it weren't for the ankle biters, he'd avoid werewolf territory entirely. But he wasn't about to deny any child an Easter... even if that child would someday grow up to be A vicious, cunning beast with a taste for flesh.

Though not half so cunning as Bunnymund himself.

Eggs found their way into hidden nooks and crannies, tucking themselves into tree roots and bushes that sprang up where the trees allowed, ignored by the werewolves. After all, why go sniffing after boiled eggs when there was meat to be caught?

There was a rustle from the branches above him, and a soft, unpleasant laugh from the undergrowth. _The twins._ They were the only ones who hunted together; for reasons all their own, the rest of the pack rarely worked in concert to hunt Bunnymund. But with the twins, you never got one without the other.

He was more than ready for them. Exploding eggs laced with skunk spray hit the ground while Bunnymund raced up the tree trunk. His boomerang sliced through the air until it hit fur covered flesh with a satisfying _thwunk_. Vicious claws slashed out at him and the werewolf in the tree fell down, joining her sister in stinking cloud. Their screams echoed through the night, and Bunnymund kept to the trees until he was well away from the stink bomb. He could hear the others rushing towards the howls, poor fools. He didn't let his guard down, though. Not all of the pack was stupid enough to run _towards_ the screaming, and he'd reached the trickiest part of the egg run.

The house loomed above Bunnymund, painted in stark shades of gray by the moonlight. Everything stank of werewolf musk, and there were so many sheltering shadows for one of the beasts to hide in. One canny creature had waited for him there, years ago, and had actually managed to catch hold of him for a few minutes.

This time, she wasn't even bothering to hide. Silver hair and old scars mottled the alpha female's muzzle as she lifted her head and sniffed the air, eyes gleaming in the moonlight. She huffed once and lay her head back down on her massive forearms. "I'm too old for chasing rabbits. Be about your business, then be gone."

"And a happy Easter to you too, Helena." Bunnymund strode up the creaking steps. If the alpha was willing to tolerate his presence, then the rest of the pack wouldn't dare to attack him. "How're the grandkids?"

"Growing like weeds. They'll be nipping at your heels before you know it."

A clutch of brightly colored eggs settled into a basket of pine cones beside the back door. "They'll never catch me."

"Oh, I don't know. I have high hopes for the boy... not that any of them would know what to do with you if they did." Helena yawned hugely, tongue lolling out of her mouth as she scratched a torn ear with her hind leg. "Probably try and make you grant wishes or something."

Bunnymund snorted. "Not the bloody Leprechaun." He took a moment to enjoy the relative peace; this was his last stop of the night, and the sun would be up soon. Children everywhere would be waking up to the hope of new beginnings. "I've always wondered... what do you lot do on Christmas?"

Helena snorted as her tail thumped slowly against the porch. "You think any of us have managed to stay off the Naughty List long enough to find out?"

"Fair enough."

Maybe next time, he'd invite North along for the Hunt.


End file.
